


What if the Right Part of Leaving Turned Out to Be Wrong?

by taralkariel



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Post-Black Widow Hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 11:47:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5665027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taralkariel/pseuds/taralkariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes hasn't seen her in a while - but that doesn't mean it hurts any less to run into her again.  But, maybe, this time will be different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What if the Right Part of Leaving Turned Out to Be Wrong?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moosen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moosen/gifts).



> Written for jxmesbuckybarnes on tumblr. I really enjoyed exploring this part of their story and I hope you like it!

The trail was cold by the time he got there – but that was often the case.  Fury had given him enough breadcrumbs to follow, and he managed to track down the trajectory of the stolen tech.  It wasn’t easy, but, well, what was?  Here it was New Year’s Eve, and he was slogging through snow to a cabin in the Rocky Mountains.  Just what he wanted to be doing with his time.

When he was close to the perimeter, he paused to assess the place.  Two sentries, both distracted by the weather; four figures moving behind the curtains inside, as far as he could tell.  He waited patiently to see if anyone else would appear.  His toes and fingers were freezing, but he ignored them as he counted down in his head.  Then he took out the sentries – quietly – and made his way into the cabin.  And abruptly stopped in his tracks.

“Winter Soldier,” Nat – Natasha said with that smile of hers that he remembered so well.  She had the men at gunpoint and was going through a bag with her other hand.  She looked… great.  He felt sick.

“Widow,” he replied, pleased to hear that his voice sounded as distantly cordial as hers had.  “Always a pleasure.”

She smirked as she found what she was looking for – the same thing he was – and took a few steps away.  “We need to stop running into each other like this.  People will talk,” she teased.

His heart was pounding, deafening in his ears, but he managed to smile back.  God, she was beautiful.  He could scarcely think straight.  Come on, Barnes, you’re on the mission, he reminded himself sharply.  He’d made his choice before – couldn’t go back on it now.  Just because he was so damn alone these days.  Things were better this way.

“Purely coincidental, I assure you,” he said, wondering if it was.  Wondering if Fury had known she’d be here.

The smile on her face was so familiar and so unexpected, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.  He was only vaguely aware of the other men in the room, hoping that he didn’t look too much like a fool.  That she couldn’t see how he was feeling – but she probably could.  She had always been able to read him, even before they…

“Undoubtedly,” she was saying in response to whatever it was he’d managed to say – he couldn’t remember now.  “In any case, Barnes, I’m afraid I can’t let you have this.”

She looked apologetic, perhaps genuinely so.  He wasn’t sure, not anymore.  But he frowned as he glanced over at her prisoners.  Negotiating here, in front of these people, wasn’t exactly the best idea.  “Maybe we’re headed the same way,” he offered casually.  At least, he hoped it sounded casual.

Her expression changed slightly but he couldn’t identify why.  Then she looked appraisingly around the cabin and nodded.  Motioning for him to help, she pulled out some rope and they set about binding the men to chairs as she responded.  “Sure, better than sticking around here.  Gentlemen, try not to do anything stupid.  It was a pleasure doing business with you.”  The smile on her face was dangerous, and he was glad it was not directed toward him.

Natasha backed toward the door, keeping an eye on everyone as well as her own trajectory.  She always amazed him, he thought irrelevantly as he followed her lead.  Once outside, they moved against the wall of the cabin to avoid at least some of the falling snow – it was getting worse.  Leaving this place was going to be increasingly difficult as the minutes ticked by.

“I have a car,” he began, pointing in the general direction from which he’d come.

“Who sent you?”  Her tone was suspicious and he forced himself not to take that personally.  He was somewhat successful.

He forced a smile.  “I could ask you the same thing.”

Though she didn’t relax in any tangible way, something about her seemed to soften.  But that was probably wishful thinking on his part.  “You could, but I’m the one with the leverage here,” she responded, motioning toward the object of his mission.

“Fury,” he said simply, not sure if this was something he should be keeping secret or not.  It shouldn’t matter…

“Ah.  Of course.”

She turned her attention back to the rapidly disappearing path away from the cabin, against which they were still leaning.  “You know, it’s generally considered … unsafe for a lady to get a ride from a strange man in the middle of nowhere,” she stated.

“I’m sure you can handle yourself.”

“Against you?”

“Against me,” he responded, smiling self-effacingly.

Motioning toward the swirling whiteness, she pulled goggles down over her face.  “Lead on then, Winter Soldier.”

The teasing in her tone hurt him in a bittersweet sort of way, but he started walking.  Best to expend his energy on getting through this crap, best to focus on putting one foot in front of another instead of what she might be doing behind him.  They would get to his vehicle and then… and then...  Maybe she’d stay with him a little longer.  He didn’t know if he wanted that, or if it would be better for her to go.  To leave him here.  Even if it meant failing his mission – he couldn’t bring himself to care much about that.  It wasn’t a particularly important one.  Fury probably sent him on it out of pity.  Or maybe Steve –

His thought process was cut short when the cabin a few yards behind them suddenly burst into flames – some kind of booby trap, maybe?  Reacting instead of dwelling on the cause, he grabbed Natasha and pushed her in front of him, shielding her.  She opened her mouth to protest, no doubt, but something in the cabin exploded and he was aware of excruciating pain and then falling face-first into the snow.  And then he was aware of nothing.

 

He was laying on his stomach.  He was warm.  There was a blanket on him.  There was a bed underneath him – or maybe a couch.  Probably too comfortable for a couch, though.  He couldn’t hear anything to give him an indication of where he was.  He flattened his palm against the sheets and started to move his arm before agony raced through his consciousness, bright lights dancing in front of his eyes.  A groan escaped him as he forced himself to stay still, trying to return to the equilibrium that had allowed him to rest earlier.

“Shh, don’t move,” Natasha’s voice behind him.  That startled him, and things hurt again.  He was aware of her presence moving closer, but worked hard not to react.  “It’s safe here.  Well, you know, as safe as things get in our line of work,” she clarified.  “Your back’s in bad shape, but I patched you up as best I could.  We’ll have to wait for the storm to pass before I can get you to someone else.”

“So I stuck with you?” he asked quietly, voice rough.

She snorted.  “Looks like it.”  There was a pause and he wondered what she was thinking about.  “I’m sorry.  I should have checked better for that,” she admitted, sounding wistful.

“I’ve been through worse.”  God, had he…  Not that he felt much like sharing that right now.  “I’ll be fine.”

“I would expect no less.”

He smiled painfully against the pillow.  “Thanks,” he offered tiredly.

“Go to sleep, Barnes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

This time, returning to consciousness was quite different.  He was being shaken.  Natasha was saying something – it took a moment to place it.  “Wake up!  James!”

That was effective.  He was on his feet immediately, standing near the door of what looked like a hotel room – a small one.  Maybe another cabin.  She was a few feet away, watching him warily.  “What…?  What am I doing?”

“You were having a nightmare.  I … didn’t think that was very good for your back,” she offered a little hesitantly.

He shook himself, ignoring the pain that rippled through him.  He’d endured worse.  It wasn’t like his nights were generally all that restful, so a new issue in that department was hardly a surprise.  After a brief scan of their surroundings, he turned his attention back to Natasha.  She’d called him James.  She hadn’t done that since…  Why would she do that?

She returned his gaze, but actually seemed a little uncomfortable the longer he stood there, regarding her.  Clearing her throat, she turned her attention elsewhere – which wasn’t like her at all.  “You could probably lay back down,” she offered softly.

“I could,” he agreed.  She raised an eyebrow at him when he didn’t move, and he gave her a tight smile before moving toward the bed again.  Gingerly, he sat down, but didn’t stretch out.  Instead, he kept his eyes on her, considering.

After he’d stopped moving, she settled onto the easy chair in the room slowly, eyeing him carefully.  “Not tired?” she asked conversationally.

“Did Fury send you, too?”

“I’m afraid not.”  Her expression wasn’t quite apologetic, but close.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully.  “Then I guess I failed my objective.”

“Perhaps we could come to some kind of agreement.”

That was unlike her, too.  Natasha was… pretty focused.  Compromising only as a means to an end – when it would benefit her the most anyway.  “What kind of agreement?”

She shrugged.  “Seems like something Fury and my client can argue about.”

A smile tugged at his lips.  “You don’t want to argue?”  A moment too late, he considered that perhaps he shouldn’t know that she enjoyed that kind of challenge.  Or any kind, really.

“It wouldn’t be very sporting to cause that kind of stress to an already injured man, I’d say.  From what I hear, it’s not really your wheelhouse anyway.”

Why she’d be paying attention to what people were saying about him was a thing he wasn’t going to consider any further.  “It’s not,” he agreed amicably.  “My methods are usually… a little more direct,” he added as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with a pained frown.

To his surprise, she laughed.  “Now that is what I’ve heard,” she explained when he looked up sharply.

“Gets the job done.”  He smiled at her and she was smiling back and, oh, God, he was so lost.

“Spit it out, Barnes,” she said suddenly.

Closing his eyes briefly, he thought painfully of the last time she’d said that.  “What?”

She settled herself more comfortably, and maybe more confidently, in her chair while raising an eyebrow at him.  “It just seems to me that there’s something you want to say to me whenever we run into each other.  So, come on, James, what is it?”

Pressing his lips together, he looked studiously at the floor.  He’d imagined all kinds of ways their separation might come to an end, but this was certainly not one of them.  Taken off-guard, he wasn’t sure what to say.  This could be his only chance…  Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to her.  “I just… I was hoping you might like to, uh, go to dinner sometime,” he suggested, his heartbeat almost drowning out his words.

Her expression was closed for a moment and he felt like he was falling.  But then she smiled.  “How about breakfast?”

The relief that flooded him came mixed with apprehension.  “Sure, just… no pancake houses,” he said softly.

That made her laugh, seeming surprised.  “A man after my own heart,” she teased, but he could see the way she was looking at him.  And maybe, just maybe, she meant it as something more.  He was willing to wait, however long it took her, to find out.


End file.
